FORMS OF FLESH

About the Artists

Jeremy Plotkin Wong is a sculptor and ceramicist from Connecticut, currently based in Chicago. His distinctive practice began to take shape while studying at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago. There, his interest in how people interact with objects led him to evolve his wheel-thrown forms into sculptural caricatures of the body. He compares the relationship between himself and his work to that of a choreographer and a dancer: collaborative, intuitive, and physical. 

His primary medium is clay, due to its ability to come alive through direct touch; his practice also extends to multimedia sculpture. Influenced by sources as diverse as Chinese decorative arts, funk ceramics, and pop icons like Betty Boop and the Muppets, Plotkin Wong’s work is rooted in humor and whimsy, engaging with the uncanny language of the vessel. 

The exploration of the corporal form and ceramic functionality culminated in his ongoing body of work made of pieces he calls “My Servers”. They are eyelash-adorned vessels that unapologetically “serve” more face than function. Drawing on the queer colloquialism “to serve” (meaning to look good, fashionable, or confident), the works play with ideas of presentation, power, and performance. These figures straddle a space between empowerment and vulnerability, embodying a playful yet poignant tension between objecthood and personhood. 

Plotkin Wong’s vessels provoke a curious emotional response — viewers may find themselves anthropomorphizing the forms, sensing flirtation in their exaggerated curves and stylized features. Though they pose as eccentric vases, their effect is unmistakably human. In animating these forms, Plotkin Wong offers a kind of autonomy to the objectified. As he puts it, “Fantasy becomes a powerful tool to reimagine and reflect our reality; it is a respite for those dissatisfied with their surroundings.”

Kat Bawden is a photographer and filmmaker based in Chicago. Her work is a deeply personal investigation of the relationship between the body, trauma, and perception. Using her own body as the object of study and subject of expression, she works with her camera to dissect the phenomena of being perceived. The process of filming and then rewatching and reflecting on the recordings is a form of ritual healing and questioning: “What happens when I perform these actions on myself, and what happens when I perform them for a viewer? What new neural and physical pathways can I create? What happens to me in my body, and what happens to you? What happens when my gaze meets your gaze?”

Her video works are short loops of repetitive corporeal gestures that interrogate the friction between intimacy and voyeurism. They negotiate the interplay of vulnerability, control, and the reciprocal dynamics of seeing and being seen. Her exploration centers on the body's capacity for transformation—both physiological and psychological—and the mediating presence of the camera as a means to renegotiate embodiment. Drawing from symbolism, scientific research, and the poetics of the natural world, her installations are not only visual but somatic—immersive environments that render the body as both subject and site. The artist uses projection as a material, allowing the body to merge with the architecture and atmosphere of the space. In these spaces, viewers are not passive observers but active co-creators, drawn into a dialogue with the work and, ultimately, with themselves.

Bawden’s recent projects continue to center the body—often her own—as both subject and medium, while expanding into collaborative explorations with friends and research into archival photographs and historical imagery.

George Mosher, also known as Bingus Blaine, is a Brooklyn-based multimedia artist and writer originally from Chicago. He is the architect of the world and mythology of Sloins — hive-minded organisms that endlessly evolve in sync with a constant, pulsing force known as The Thump. What began as childhood doodles have since grown into a complex, systematic lore documented through pencil illustrations, multimedia sculptures, and mystical texts. 

Mosher’s work balances precision with chaos. His compositions recall early experiments within the confined spaces of textbook margins, draw on the symmetry of Byzantine art, and channel the visual logic of medieval alchemical manuscripts. The works play with parallax, revealing shifting dimensions depending on the viewer’s distance. Sloins and their deities, beings of diverse form and textures, grotesquely fixate on fragments of the human flesh. Influenced by 80s body horror films, Mosher leans into the freakiness of forms, exploring the absurdity of embodiment by rearranging the familiar into the uncanny. This creates a persistent tension between empathy and discomfort that is central to the emotional atmosphere of the work.

The symbols and stories scattered across his practice are remnants of mythologies told by the homunculi, which are represented in his sculptural repertoire. These creatures engage in relatable, human-like behavior, while the Sloin drawings serve as their imagined spiritual or mythic framework. Through their journeys, rituals, joys, and struggles, the homunculi and the Sloins together mirror aspects of our world.

While the logic of this universe is created through careful use of science and magic, Mosher leaves room for ambiguity– inviting viewers to fill in the gaps and question what lies beyond.

Hannah Marcus is a movement-based artist from Chicago whose practice weaves together dance, improvisation, sound, language, and space to explore the delicate interplay between form and feeling, structure and spontaneity. Her performances unfold as dynamic investigations into memory, intimacy, and the physical architecture of the body. This practice reveals its strength, fragility, and capacity to hold and transmit emotional experience.

Inspired by elements of dance theater and physical performance, her process is grounded in improvisation, allowing choreography to emerge fluidly in conversation with the moment. Pattern and disruption coexist in her work: structures are built only to be dismantled, leaving space for transformation. Drawing inspiration from the rhythms of everyday life, her practice is deeply grounded in the world around her. Collaborations with sound artists are also a part of her performances’  development, like with Maya  Nguyen during the Forms of Flesh opening ceremony. Ultimately, her work seeks not only to be seen, but to be felt—activating viewers through a spectrum of human sensation, and offering a site for connection, contemplation, and shared vulnerability.